


I've Loved Everything About You That Hurts

by ptrckstmp



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Homophobia, M/M, literally no clue what else to tag this as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:52:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3526538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptrckstmp/pseuds/ptrckstmp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick hated having a crush on Pete Wentz. He wasn’t even sure why he liked the guy. Pete wore too much eyeliner and swore a lot and most importantly, he was the star soccer player at the school and Patrick didn’t even like sports. It was a completely stupid crush, and he tried his best to ignore it, but it was hard because every time Pete flashed that huge smile of his, which was often, Patrick felt involuntary butterflies in his stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Patrick hated having a crush on Pete Wentz. He wasn’t even sure why he liked the guy. Pete wore too much eyeliner and swore a lot and most importantly, he was the star soccer player at the school and Patrick didn’t even _like_ sports. It was a completely stupid crush, and he tried his best to ignore it, but it was hard because every time Pete flashed that huge smile of his, which was often, Patrick felt involuntary butterflies in his stomach.

“Hey Stump!” Pete slid into the seat next to Patrick, smiling that smile of his again. Patrick was nearly blinded by the brilliance of it. “You ready to listen to Mrs. O’Hare rattle on again? I wonder how off-topic she’ll get today.”

Pete was also the only reason that Patrick was able to survive his math class. Mrs. O’Hare _did_ have the tendency to, as Pete so eloquently put it “rattle on”, and he and Patrick would spend the entire class period making horrified faces at each other, and drawing amusing caricatures of their eccentric math teacher.

“Hey, you asking anyone to the dance this weekend?” Pete asked him, pulling out his notebook and a pen. Patrick’s face flushed, and Joe, who sat right in front of Pete, whipped around to look at Patrick.

Patrick had been talking about asking Pete to the Valentine’s day dance for weeks, and Joe had been bugging him to “just _ask_ him already!”, but Patrick had insisted that “it just hadn’t come up yet”.

Well, now it had come up. Patrick gulped.

“I uh, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to go with me?” He mumbled, looking down at the paper on his own desk. His heart was beating quickly in his chest, and he braced himself for the inevitable rejection. Even if Pete wasn’t straight, why would he want to go with Patrick? He could have his pick of anyone in the school, there’s no way he’d want to go with the lamest kid in their grade.

Patrick felt the smile before he even looked up and saw it.

“Hey, I was just about to ask you the same question!” He said. That stupid smile was all teeth and dimples and if Pete wasn’t careful he might eclipse the sun with the stupid thing.

Patrick’s vision swam for a second, and he shook his head, confused. He could see Joe grinning from ear to ear, and giving him a thumbs up.

“What?” he stuttered out, still not entirely comprehending what Pete had just said.

“I’d love to go with you Stump!” The final bell rang, but Pete kept talking. “Should we like, coordinate ties or something? I can drive, by the way.”

“Mr. Wentz!” Mrs. O’Hare’s shrill voice came from the front of the room. “Class has begun, please be quiet.”

Pete glanced over at Patrick, and that stupid smile seemed to have infused itself into his eyes. Patrick felt dizzy.

“We’ll talk after class.” He whispered. Patrick just nodded dumbly, a smile of his own spreading across his face.

~

“Joe, did that really just happen?” Patrick asked his friend as they were walking down the hall to their next class. He was still in a daze, and he hadn’t heard a thing Mrs. O’Hare had said all class period. “Did Pete Wentz _really_ just agree to go to a dance with me?”

Joe grinned at him. “He sure did dude. Lucky you, you’re going to be the envy of the entire school.”

“Holy smokes. I can’t believe this is happening. I never in a million years thought that _Pete Wentz_ would go a dance with _me_.” He looked over at Joe, smiling like a giddy school girl, and it took everything he had in him to not squeal like one too. The butterflies in his stomach were considerably more active now than they had been earlier, and he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Crushes were stupid, he decided.

“Look, just be careful, okay?” Joe said stopping abruptly and looking over at him. Patrick back, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Joe sighed, adjusting his grip on the backpack slung over one shoulder.

“It’s no secret that Pete…gets around. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He searched Patrick’s eyes, looking to see if he understood what he was saying. Patrick glanced away. He knew Joe was right, Pete had no reason to actually _like_ Patrick, especially since he could date anyone he wanted to, and no sane person would pick out the unattractive music nerd to be their boyfriend. He felt the butterflies turn to stones. Come to think of it, it was very possible that this entire thing was a prank.

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t go with him and have a fun time,” Joe added hastily, watching his friend’s face fall, “I’m just warning you to be careful. There is a possibility that he just wants to get into your pants and then never talk to you again.” Patrick’s mood had plummeted.

“Yeah, you’re right. It was stupid to think that he might actually be interested in me.” Patrick mumbled, scratching his cheek.

“Hey, I’m not saying that! There’s also a possibility that he does really like you, I mean, you’re talented and cute, and did I mention that you’re, like, super good at everything you try?” Joe punched him lightly on the arm, trying to cheer him up, and Patrick chuckled slightly. “Just proceed with caution.”

Patrick nodded. “Thanks for looking out for me Joe. I’ll be careful.”

“And for God’s sake, if he takes you to a hotel, make sure he’s wearing a condom. Who knows where that guy’s dick has been?” Joe glanced at Patrick, waiting for his reaction. Patrick glared at him.

“You’re so stupid.” He scoffed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance was exactly like Patrick had expected it to be. Girls in dresses that barely passed the dress code, sweaty bodies, the smell of alcohol that wasn’t supposed to be there, but obviously was, because how else was one supposed to actually enjoy themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't guarantee that these chapters will even be kind of remotely the same length as each other. Sorry.

Patrick fidgeted nervously, adjusting his tie again, desperately trying to make it straighter than he was. He was waiting for Pete to pick him up, and he was supposed to be there 5 minutes earlier. Patrick was starting to think that maybe this whole thing was a setup, and that Pete was standing him up, or maybe someone more attractive had asked him last minute.

He let out a breath of relief when the doorbell rang. He forced himself to wait a few seconds before opening the door, trying not to look too overeager.

Thankfully it was, in fact, Pete standing there on the doorstep, holding a bouquet of pink roses. Patrick felt a blush rise into his cheeks, and Pete’s mouthed dropped open.

“Damn Stump, you look _good_.” His eyes traveled from Patrick’s shoes (he was wearing his favorite pair of Chuck Taylors, because why not?) all the way up to the well-fitting black vest over a grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and the red bow tie around his neck. Patrick felt his blush deepen.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Pete. Except I mean, really? Skinny jeans?” Patrick chuckled. It was just like Pete to wear jeans to a formal dance.

“Hey, we agreed on wearing black, red and grey, and I didn’t have any other black pants, so unless you wanted me to wear my red pajama pants, this was as good as it was gonna get.” He was still sporting that blinding smile, and Patrick could barely see. “Besides, the top part of me looks good! I rock this color.”

Patrick had to agree that the red button up shirt and grey tie did look good on him, and he’d at least had the decency to throw a blazer over the whole ensemble.

“Oh hey, and these are for you.” Pete thrust the flowers out in front of him, holding them out to Patrick. Patrick took them and, and held the bouquet to his nose, taking a sniff. They smelled like all flowers from the grocery store did, kind of artificial, but they were beautiful.

“I’ll, uh, go put these in some water and then we can go.” Patrick said. “Uh, come on in, it’ll just take a second. My parents aren’t home so you won’t have to deal with any awkward questions.”

“Lucky me.” Pete chuckled and stepped into the entryway, closing the door behind him.

Patrick rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a vase from the cupboard under the sink, filled it with lukewarm water, and hastily shoved the flowers in. He hesitated a moment, thinking that maybe he should take the flowers up into his room so that his mom wouldn’t question him about them later, then decided against it. He felt a strange sense of urgency to get to the dance. Perhaps he was afraid of Pete changing his mind still.

However, when Patrick came back out Pete was still there, studying a picture on the wall. It was of Patrick when he was about 5 years old with a stuffed tiger slung over his arm, and a tiny baseball cap jammed on his head, mouth stained with popsicle, or strawberry jam or something. Pete looked over at Patrick, grinning.

“Is this you?” He asked, gesturing to the picture. Patrick nodded. “Damn you were a cute little kid.”

“Shut up.” Patrick mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

“Of course, if you ask me, you’re cuter now.”

Patrick felt his entire body go hot. Not for the first time in his life he wished he wasn’t so pale, he was starting to look like a cherry tomato. Patrick’s blush only served to amuse Pete more though, and his grin grew. Patrick thought Pete’s face might split in half.

“Let’s just go.” Patrick sighed, rolling his eyes.

~

The dance was exactly like Patrick had expected it to be. Girls in dresses that barely passed the dress code, sweaty bodies, the smell of alcohol that wasn’t supposed to be there, but _obviously_ was, because how else was one supposed to actually enjoy themselves?

As they entered the gymnasium Pete reached out and grabbed hold of Patrick’s hand and leaned in slightly, bumping their shoulders together.

“Alright, let’s do this thingy.” Pete said, smiling down at Patrick. Patrick glanced back up at him, trying out a smile of his own, despite the nervousness that fluttered through his veins. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Only moments after they entered the throngs of people a slow song started.

“Ah, perfect timing!” Pete turned to face Patrick, letting go of his hand. “May I have this dance?” He asked in a fake British accent, bowing gracefully and offering his hand. Patrick laughed.

“I didn’t know you were so theatric!” he giggled. Fucking _giggled_. But the next moment he had reached up and locked his hands around Pete’s neck. His breathing stuttered for a moment when Pete placed his hands on Patrick’s hips and pulled him close.

Patrick wanted so badly for this to be real, though he was still afraid it was some nasty prank.

He was pleasantly surprised, however, when there was no grinding, and Pete’s hands stayed gently on Patrick’s hips, never straying downwards to grab at his ass. There were no nibbles on the neck, no whispered suggestions to ditch early (Wentz _always_ reserved a hotel room for after school dances though, and Patrick’s stomach clenched when he thought of the inevitable time when he _would_ suggest they ditch), no attempts to do anything but simply sway to the music. Patrick couldn’t believe that Pete Wentz was possible of doing something so _innocent_ , but he wasn’t going to say anything.

The song ended and they broke apart. Patrick was sure that Pete had been able to hear his hammering heart, even over the sound of the music pouring from the shitty speakers.

“Well that was nice. I hope we can do that again.” Pete smiled, and reached out to grab his hand again.

Pete dragged him around to say hi to his various jock friends, introducing him as “my hot date, Patrick”, and never letting go of his hand. Patrick was sure that his face was constantly flushed red from his permanent blush, but luckily it was dark and he was fairly sure that no one could see his color change. He reveled in the jealous look shot at him from the girls who swooned over Pete, winking back at them and pressing his body closer to Pete’s. If Pete only showed interest in Patrick for one night, which was very likely, Patrick was going to make the best of it.

They were sitting out a dance, backs leaned up against the wall, watching their peers make complete fools of themselves. Pete liked to point out particularly embarrassing dance moves, and Patrick liked to point out that Pete was possibly the worst dancer he’d ever seen.

“Oh yeah punk?” Pete said teasingly. He pushed himself off the wall and stood in front of Patrick. “Let’s see. You. Me. Dance off. Right now.”

Patrick laughed and rolled his eyes. Pete was quite different than he’d previously thought he was, and now Patrick knew that he was absolutely doomed. Not only was Pete hot, but Patrick genuinely enjoyed his company, and even his shitty jokes. Stupid _stupid_ crush.

“Oh you’re on.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows. “But, uh, first I gotta go to the bathroom.”

Pete sighed and relaxed against the wall.

“I knew it. You’re too chicken.” He smirked. Patrick hit him on the shoulder.

“Oh, I’ll be back soon, and then we’re _totally_ having that dance off. You’d better be here when I get back.” He called over his shoulder as he walked towards the gym doors leading out into the hallway.

“Oh I’ll be here.” Pete shouted after him. And then he fucking _winked._ Patrick felt the butterflies fly up into his throat, and he forced himself to look normal and not let the giddy grin spread across his face as he made his way through the crowds of people.

When he finally got to the bathroom he was amazed at how quiet it was. He could only faintly hear the sound of music coming from the gym, and he was all alone in there. He pissed quickly and was washing his hands when he heard the door squeak open. He looked up into the mirror to see 3 boys standing behind him menacingly.

He recognized them instantly. They were all soccer players, probably friends with Pete. They were also known for their tendency towards violence. Patrick turned off the tap and spun around to face them.

“Uh, hey Mark.” He nodded at the boy in the front. “Gabe, Ryan.” He nodded at the other two boys respectively.

Mark didn’t say hello back, he just swung his fist at Patrick. It made painful contact with the front of Patrick’s jaw, and he stumbled backwards, hitting his back against the sinks. Mark grabbed the front of his shirt and flung him into the other two boys, who caught him and held his arms behind his back. Patrick struggled to break free from their grip, but to no avail. Mark brought his fist back around and smashed it into Patrick’s gut, winding him.

 White flashed in front of Patrick’s eyes for just a second and he groaned in pain. His mouth tasted like blood and he could feel his lip starting to swell up.

“So you asked Wentz to the dance, huh?” He snarled, stepping into Patrick’s personal space. Patrick looked into Mark’s eyes defiantly.

“Yeah I did. Why do you care?” He spat back. Mark backhanded him, and Patrick’s eyes started to water with the sting of the slap. He was pretty certain he’d have a nasty bruise there tomorrow.

“Listen, _Stump_.” Mark said his name like it was poisonous. “Pete represents the soccer team here, he’s our big star. There’s no doubt he’s going to be captain next year. And we can’t have people thinking that the captain of our soccer team is gay, now can we?”  He stared deep into Patrick’s eyes, and it took all of Patrick’s will to not break eye contact. Instead he let small laugh escape his lips.

“Well he’s sure as hell not straight.” He flinched, waiting for another hit, but it didn’t come. Despite his best efforts to not be, he was afraid of these three assholes.

“I don’t want to see you talking to him again, Stump. If I see you so much as _glance_ in his direction, I promise we’ll make you pay. Do you understand?”

Patrick nodded, and Gabe and Ryan let go of his arms.

“And don’t think that we won’t make good on that promise.” Mark called over his shoulder as the three of them left the bathroom.

Patrick stood there for a second, stunned, heart pounding painfully in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked my girlfriend who in the bandom would beat Patrick up in a school bathroom in a highschool AU and she said "Mark Hoppus b/c he's an asshole." 
> 
> Her words, not mine.
> 
> (also, comments are really cool, just btw)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to update holy smokes. I'll try to be better with the next chapter.

10 minutes later Patrick was pushing his way back through the crowds of kids, looking around for Pete. Thankfully Pete hadn’t moved from the spot where Patrick left him. He was slumped against the wall scrolling through his phone. Patrick called out to him, and he looked up quickly, face breaking into that grin again as he saw Patrick.

“Dude, I’d thought I’d actually scared you away with my challenge to a dance off. What took you so long?” He asked, shoving his phone back into his pocket. The grin abruptly fell off of his face as Patrick stopped in front of him. He reached out and gingerly touched Patrick’s swollen and split lip, and Patrick flinched away from his hand.

“What happened?” He asked, and Patrick thought he heard genuine concern in the dark haired boy’s voice. Patrick shrugged, uncomfortable under Pete’s gaze as the other boy assessed the damage.

“I fell.” He said simply. He had already decided that he wasn’t going to tell Pete about the encounter in the bathroom, nor was he going to avoid Pete like Mark told him he should. He could handle anything those assholes dealt out, and besides, he doubted that he would ever actually talk to Pete again after the dance.

“You did not.” Pete said stubbornly. “I’ve been in enough fights to know that those bruises on your face aren’t from the floor.” He took Patrick’s chin in his hand and lifted his head up so he could properly see Patrick’s face. “Who was it? I’ll tear their fucking lungs out of their chest.” He growled. Patrick was taken aback by Pete’s sudden surge of protectiveness.

“Honestly, just drop it Pete.” Patrick pushed his hand away. “I’m fine, it’s no big deal, let’s just enjoy the rest of the dance.”

Pete stared at him, brow furrowed. He shook his head.

“Please.” Patrick begged. Pete let a barely audible sigh escape his lips.

“Whatever man, you don’t have to tell me what happened.” He paused for a second. “But I don’t think I’m going to be able to enjoy the rest of the dance knowing that there are bullies lurking around. Wanna ditch early?” He asked.

Patrick’s heart sunk down to his feet. As hot as Pete was, and as much as he’d like to fuck him, he didn’t want Joe to be right. He didn’t want Pete to “just get into his pants and never talk to him again”. But he found himself nodding. What else could he do?

“Great.” Pete grinned and grabbed his hand again. He pulled Patrick back through the throngs of people and out the gym doors into the cold February air. Patrick was thankful when they made it back to the relative warmth of Pete’s car.

Patrick could feel the anxiety rising in his stomach as they drove. He still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do when Pete pulled up in front of some hotel. Was he actually going to let Pete Wentz have sex with him? Not that he particularly minded the thought, but he was afraid of what would happen afterwards.

When Pete stopped the car, however, they were not in front of a hotel, but in front of a 24 hour café. It was one of the vintage ones, with the neon lights and the checkered floor, and red vinyl coverings on all the seats.

“This is one of my favorite places.” Pete explained, taking the keys out of the ignition and opening his door. “The waitresses are nice, the pie is _amazing_ , and the coffee isn’t gourmet, but hey, it doesn’t suck!” He said, flashing that smile over at Patrick again.

“I actually genuinely prefer the taste of crappy diner coffee.” Patrick replied, feeling his heart rise from his feet back to the normal place in his chest. They weren’t at a hotel. Not yet anyway.

“Well then you’re going to love the stuff they have here.” Pete grabbed his hand and pressed the lock button on his key fob until the car beeped. A wave of warmth rolled over them as Pete opened the door to the small café, a bell dinging and announcing their presence.

“Hey Pete!” the dark haired waitress behind the counter said cheerfully. “Who’s your friend?” Her eyes flicked down to where Patrick and Pete’s fingers were still tangled together and then up to Patrick’s bruised face.

“Hey Meagan. This is Patrick. We were at a school dance together, but we decided to leave early because school dances blow.” Pete said. The waitress, Meagan, just nodded.

“Well, you’re not wrong. I only went to a couple of dances in high school. The only good part was the after party at someone’s house and getting drunk and hooking up with some dude that was definitely hotter than your date.” She sighed wistfully, placing her elbows on the counter and her chin in her hands. “And maybe a couple of girls.”

“That’s great Meg, but I don’t really want to hear about your high school sexual conquests.” He said. She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to respond, but Pete kept talking. “Could we get some coffee and a couple of slices of strawberry pie?”

“Sure thing sweetheart.” She turned to Patrick. “How do you like your coffee?” She asked him.

“Uh, black.” Patrick mumbled. He felt strangely out of place despite the warm interior and friendly banter. He was never very outgoing and social situations with strangers made him incredibly uncomfortable.

Pete tugged Patrick over to a booth in the corner and slid onto the bench. Patrick slid into the booth opposite him, shifting uncomfortably under Pete’s intense stare.

“Are you ready to tell me who decided to bust your lip?” He said. Patrick shook his head.

“I told you not to worry about it Pete. It’s just a split lip and a couple of bruises. I’ve had worse.” He avoided Pete’s eyes and looked out the window instead. He couldn’t really see outside very well because it was too dark out, but it was better than looking at Pete’s concerned face.

It was silent for a few moments, Patrick studying the café from the reflection in the window and Pete studying Patrick.

“Why’d you say yes?” Patrick said suddenly, turning to face Pete. Pete cocked his head, confused.

“Huh?”

“To the dance. Why did you agree to go to the dance with me? Surely you could’ve taken anyone you wanted. So why me? Is this all a prank? Did someone dare you to? Because that’s really mean Pete.” Patrick couldn’t stop the flow of words from his mouth. He knew he sounded stupid and paranoid, but he didn’t care. He needed to know _why_ Pete was sitting here with him.

Pete looked at him, stunned, mouth moving but no words coming out. He cleared his throat.

“Why would you think that?” He finally asked. Patrick shrugged. “Don’t sell yourself short Stump. I went to the dance with you because I _like_ you.” He reached across the table to grab one of Patrick’s hands that was resting on the table top, but Patrick yanked them both away and shoved them under his thighs. He was still suspicious.

“If you like me so much then why are we here waiting for pie instead of at some sleazy hotel with your dick in my mouth?” Patrick felt himself blush at his own words, but he held his gaze steady and looked straight into Pete’s eyes.

Pete visibly jerked back, obviously shocked.

“Did you—do you want me to take you to a hotel?” Pete looked…hurt? Patrick didn’t know how to respond. He shrugged.

“Not really.” He mumbled, looking down at the table now. Pete sighed.

“Here’s the thing, Patrick. I like you. Like honest to God actually like you. I wanted to try my hand at having an actual relationship, and stop just hooking up with random people. I didn’t want to screw this all up by, well, screwing you.” Pete sounded nervous and completely unlike his normal, boisterous, obnoxious self. “I know what my reputation is, but do you think you could give me a chance?” He asked, voice sounding small.

Patrick didn’t say anything. He was too busy trying to wrap his head around what Pete had just said.

“You…like me?” Patrick asked, voice sounding equally tiny. Pete nodded emphatically. “Why?” The question shot from his mouth before he could stop it. He just couldn’t shut up tonight.

“Because you’re cute, and funny, and you don’t just want to get into my pants like everyone else at the school, and for the first time in what seems like forever I just want to spend time with someone without getting into _their_ pants, you know? I mean, not that I wouldn’t mind having sex with you…” Pete added hurriedly and awkwardly, “it’s just that I also want to hold your hand, and talk with you, and just _be_ with you and I—I like that feeling.”

Patrick glanced up from his lap to look at Pete. He looked completely sincere. Nervous butterflies danced in Patrick’s stomach

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Wentz?” He asked, a small smile quirking the corner of his mouth up.

“Uh, yeah, I guess I am.” Pete huffed out a small laugh.

“And you’re sure this isn’t a prank?” Patrick still couldn’t shake his own self-conscious thoughts. Pete shook his head.

“I swear to God.” He said.

“Then I’d like that. Being your boyfriend that is.” Pete’s face broke into that grin again. Patrick resisted the urge to squint in its brilliance.

“I could feel the awkward tension from behind the counter.” Meagan interrupted, placing their coffee down in front of them. Pete scowled at her. “I’m glad you two managed to work something out though.”

“Beat it, Camper.” Pete teased. Meagan winked before retreating back into the kitchen for their pie.

Pete was right, the pie was amazing and Patrick had to order himself a second slice. The two of them sat in the booth for hours, talking about anything and everything under the sun. Patrick loved the way Pete’s entire face would crinkle when he laughed. It was like his smile but amplified.

“Ah shit.” Pete said, glancing down at his phone to check the time. “It’s past midnight. I should get you home probably. I want your mom to like me.”

Patrick let out a small chuckle, followed by a yawn.

They didn’t talk on the drive back to Patrick’s house, just turned up the radio and sang along to the shitty pop music as loud as they could, fingers tangled together and hands resting on the center console. Patrick hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.

Pete opened Patrick’s car door for him, and walked with him up to the front steps like a true gentleman. They lingered there for a minute, both knowing what they wanted to happen but both afraid to make the first move. Finally Pete leaned down and kissed him. Patrick whimpered a little as his swollen lip touched Pete’s, but it was an incredibly chaste kiss, and it was over far too soon. It still left Patrick’s entire body tingling though.

“Goodnight.” Pete whispered, his face still incredibly close to Patrick’s. Patrick snuck in one more quick kiss on the side of Pete’s mouth.

“Night. See you on Monday.” He smiled and then turned and opened his front door. Everything had gone much better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lolololol what even is this chapter idk sorry sorry
> 
> as always, comments are appreciated


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo this took forever to update (sorry) but I finally found motivation to write so hopefully I'll be able to finish this up soon! yay!
> 
> cw: homophobic slurs

Patrick woke up the next morning to the ding of his phone as he got a text. He rubbed his eyes groggily and groped for his phone on his bedside table. His hand found it, and he squinted at the bright screen as he turned it on and unlocked it. He smiled. It was from Pete.

_Pete: hey i had fun last nite_   
_Pete: wen can we go on anothr d8???_

He really had terrible spelling, but Patrick was willing to overlook that. He texted back

_Patrick: I don’t have anything going on on Friday_   
_Patrick: maybe we could go see the new avengers movie?_   
_Pete: wat r u doin tomorrow_   
_Pete: theres a showing @ 4_   
_Pete: if u want to go after school_

Patrick chuckled.

_Patrick: woah there pete, you don’t want to sound too overeager_   
_Pete: but i am overeager_   
_Pete: ur my bf now i dont have to worry bout scaring u away_   
_Patrick: are you sure about that? I could still break up with you_   
_Pete: but im 2 hot. ud never do that._   
_Patrick: what a nerd_   
_Pete: says the boy who wants 2 go see the avengers_   
_Patrick: tomorrow at 4 works fine btw_   
_Pete: great. im excited ;) ;) ;)_   
_Patrick: I’m not making out with you in the movie theatre_   
_Patrick: I’ve been waiting for this movie for months_   
_Pete: nerd_   
_Patrick: :P_   
_Pete: :* <3_

Patrick grinned at his phone before setting it back on his nightstand. It took everything in him to not giggle. Stupid crush was turning him into some sort of hormonal middle school girl.

~~~

Patrick practically bounced into his math class on Monday morning. The weekend had seemed eternally long and he couldn’t wait to see Pete again. Stupid crush.

He spotted the back of Pete’s head, and slid into the seat next to him, trying not to grin too madly.

“Hey Pete! We still on to go see that movie today?” He asked, stowing his backpack under his desk near his feet. Pete didn’t respond, just stared resolutely at the pencil laying on his desk. “Pete?”

“Shut up faggot, he doesn’t want to talk to you.” It was Bob, one of Pete’s teammates. Patrick opened his mouth to say something back (what he was going to say, he wasn’t sure), but Bob interrupted him again. “You heard me, leave him alone. He doesn’t want to hang out with dirty nerds like you.”

“Then why’d he agree to go to the dance with me on Saturday?” Patrick spat back, but fear was coiling in his stomach. He looked at Pete again. Pete still didn’t look back.

“It was a dare.” Bob snarled. Patrick felt like he’d been punched in the stomach again, and he willed himself not to cry. “The team dared him to take the lamest junior in school to the dance and convince them he liked them, and so he did. My man Wentz has never backed down from a dare.” Bob clapped Pete on the back, and Patrick may have been imagining things, but he thought he saw Pete flinch just a little bit at the contact.

“I--no. It wasn’t a dare.” He said to Bob. He turned to Pete. “Pete you said it wasn’t a dare.” Patrick was aware of how pathetic he sounded, and how everyone in the room was looking at him. Judging him. He was so stupid, he knew this would happen. His face was flushed with shame.

“Pete lied. Didn’t you?” Bob nudged Pete. “Look at Patrick and tell him that it was a dare, he at least deserves to know the truth now.”

“Pete--” Patrick’s voice came out embarrassingly strangled. Surely it must be Bob that was lying. He was sure that Pete had been telling the truth at the diner.

Pete looked up from his pencil and sighed heavily. He turned to Patrick

“I’m sorry Patrick. The team dared me to ask you out and I did.”

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of Patrick. His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt like breaking down into tears right then and there. But he still had a small scrap of dignity left, and he wasn’t going to let go of it.

He nodded curtly at Pete and sat straight in his seat again. “Alright. Thanks for telling me the truth.” He said, voice icy. His eyes flicked over to Joe, who looked absolutely homicidal and was glaring daggers at Pete.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Pete mumbled under his breath.

 _Great fucking job_ _with_ _that_ Patrick thought sarcastically.

“Alright, now you don’t need to talk to him anymore, got it, _fag_?” Bob said, sitting down.

Joe stood up in his seat and slammed his hands down on Bob’s desk. “Don’t you fucking call him that, Bryar! You shut your mouth!” He had grabbed the front of Bob’s shirt and hauled him in close so that their noses were almost touching.

Bob huffed out a laugh. “I thought you be more embarrassed to be friends with that _faggot_.” Bob spat the slur out deliberately this time. “Pete tells me he practically tried to give him a blowjob at the dance. How does it feel being friends with a gay slut?”

“I SAID SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH.” Joe pulled him out of the seat and delivered a swift knee to Bob’s crotch. Bob doubled over, groaning in pain. Mrs. O’Hare was standing in the doorway, mouth agape.

“Trohman, Bryar, I want you both to go to the principal’s office.” She said.

“But he started it!” Bob whined like a little kid and pointed a finger at Joe.

“I said _both_ of you. _Now_.”

Joe smirked at Bob and turned around to grab his backpack. He looked at Patrick and mouthed ‘ _sorry_ ’. Patrick gave a half hearted smiled and mouthed back ‘ _thank_ _you_ ’. Joe gave him a thumbs up, cocking his eyebrows. He was asking if Patrick was okay. Patrick gave a short nod, then returned to staring at his desk. Joe slung his bag over his shoulder, threw another glare at Bob, who was packing up his books, and marched out of the room, head held high.

Patrick was thankful for friends like Joseph Trohman.

~~~  
Patrick didn’t hear a single thing that Mrs. O’Hare said all class. He didn’t even pull his book out and pretend to listen. Mrs. O’Hare must’ve sensed that something was off, because she didn’t say anything to him about it, just let him sit there, staring at his desk. When she gave them time to start their homework before the bell rang she called Patrick to her desk and asked if he was okay.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “just having a rough day. I’ll do better next class.” She nodded, and let him go back to his desk.

As soon as the bell rang he grabbed his backpack and made a beeline down the hall for the doors. There was no way he was going to stay at school and watch the rumour that he had sucked Pete’s dick spread through the school. He’d heard enough homophobic slurs for one day.

He walked home, and finally let some tears slide down his cheeks as soon as he was off campus. He couldn’t believe he could be so stupid to think that someone as beautiful and popular as Pete Wentz would ever ask him to be his boyfriend. And now the entire school knew how stupid he was.

He went straight up to his room when he got home and laid face first on his bed, letting out a groan. His mom entered the room a minute later.

“Patrick honey, is everything okay?” She asked, poking her head around the door.

“I don’t feel good.” He mumbled into his pillow. Technically he wasn’t lying. She came over to the bed and he rolled over so she could feel his forehead (standard procedure).

“Well, it doesn’t feel like you have a fever, so that’s good. Can I get you anything? Soup? Advil? A smoothie?” She looked concerned. He shook his head.

“No, I’m just going to sleep for a bit.” He rolled back over.

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” She slipped back out of the room and shut the door quietly behind her.

Joe came by after school. He didn’t say anything about the incident, just handed Patrick a giant slushie and put in a new video game he got. They sat on Patrick’s bed for hours just mindlessly playing.

The only thing Joe said to Patrick concerning what had happened in math class was right before he left. He pulled Patrick into a hug, then stepped back and said, “Wentz had better watch his balls, because I’m coming for them next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ALWAYS A SLUT FOR COMMENTS!
> 
> (also thank you for reading)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is complete shit I'm soRRY  
> (also, I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar errors, I didn't really proofread before posting)

Patrick’s phone buzzed. He picked it up to answer it, then scoffed and rejected the call, setting his phone back down on his nightstand. A few seconds later the text alert chirped. He considered just deleting the message without looking at it, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Pete: pls answer i need 2 talk 2 u

The phone buzzed again, Pete’s name lighting up on the screen. Patrick rejected it again. He was smart enough to not let Pete add salt to the wound. He turned his phone off completely and climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up to his chin and trying to forget the day’s events.

~~~

School the next day was awful. Everyone was looking at him, some with pity in their eyes, some with disgust. Joe glared at each and every single one of them.

One guy yelled out “Hey Patrick, how much do you charge for a blowjob? Or am I hot enough like Pete that you’ll give me one for free?”. Patrick just ignored him and continued walking.

Math class was excruciatingly awkward. Patrick was afraid that Pete might try and approach him after he had ignored the phone calls last night, but Pete acted like he wasn’t even there and sat on the opposite side of the room next to Bob. Patrick didn’t know if he was grateful that Pete didn’t try and talk to him, or pissed.

During lunch one of the seniors, a girl with brightly colored hair named Hayley, plopped down next to Joe on the stairs where they were eating lunch.

“Hey Patrick, I heard what happened last weekend,” she began, and Patrick face flushed crimson, “and I just wanted to let you know that I think Wentz pulled a completely dick move.” she finished. Patrick just nodded, too embarrassed to form words. “Me and pretty much the rest of the student body. But if anyone gives you shit about it, just come talk to me about it, I’ll put them in their place.” Patrick smiled, but didn’t look at her. “And hey, I also wanted to let you know that we hold GSA meetings every other Tuesday in Mr. Way’s classroom. We’re having one today after school if you and your friend want to come.” She gestured to Joe. “We always have cookies. It’s way fun.”

“Thanks Hayley.” He stuttered out. She smiled, patted his knee and stood up.

“Hope to see you there!” she said, and then she was gone.

Patrick was completely emotionally drained by the time the final bell rang. Joe had offered to give him a ride home, but Patrick had declined the offer--he needed to clear his head a little bit and the fresh air would help, even if it was still bitterly cold outside.

He rounded the corner of his street, rubbing at his numb and runny nose with a gloved hand, and saw an unfamiliar car parked in his driveway. He hoped it wasn’t some crazy friend of his mom’s--they dropped by sometimes with their 8 million kids with their sticky fingers and snotty faces and got into his stuff and disturbed his peace and it was awful honestly.

Upon nearing his house he saw a figure huddled on his doorstep in a purple hoodie. He groaned as he realized that Pete Wentz was sitting on his front porch. What the hell did he want?

 

“What the hell do you want?” Patrick asked, coming to a stop in front of Pete. Pete, who apparently hadn’t heard him coming, stood up quickly and shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Patrick I need to talk to you.” He said hurriedly.

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” Patrick said, and made to step around Pete to go into his house. Pete moved and blocked his way.

“Please just hear me out.” He begged, reaching for Patrick’s hand. Patrick yanked it away and took a step back.

“I don’t want to hear your dumb excuses, Wentz. What you did was really mean and I swear I’ve never been more embarrassed in my whole life I can’t believe I actually thought that you could like me I’m so stupid and I never want to see your stupid face again or hear your stupid voice so if you could please get off my porch and let me go inside me damn house.” He tried to push Pete out of the way again, but he didn’t budge.

“Just give me three minutes Patrick, that’s all I’m asking for.” He looked like a kicked puppy.

“All _I_ asked for was for you to tell me the truth at that diner but you lied to me and made a fool of me, and I’m sorry that your conscience or whatever is kicking in now and you feel the need to make excuses and apologize or whatever, but no I don’t forgive you and I won’t forgive you and I don’t care about what you have to say so go the hell away.” Pete still didn’t move.

“Look, I am here to apologize, but I don’t expect you to forgive me. Please let me explain.”

Patrick shook his head.

“No Pete. I’m exhausted from school and I just want to go lie in bed and never see anyone ever again, so if you could just move…” Patrick pushed at him again. Unfortunately Pete had the advantage of being a lot bigger and more muscular, and Patrick had no hope of actually physically moving him out of the way.

“Please Patrick, everyone at school thinks I’m a complete dick, which I am, but I just need you to listen. I was just scared of Mark is all.” He grabbed Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick pushed at his chest and stepped away.

“So this is what this is? Is this some sort of stunt to regain your popularity? You told everyone you took me out on a dare so they wouldn’t think that the future soccer captain was gay, _heaven_ _forbid_ , or even worse, dating the school loser. But that backfired and now everyone thinks you’re a douchebag, and you just can’t handle that, can you? Poor Petey wants to bleach the stain out of his reputation and try to make things right, huh? I’m sorry Wentz, but it’s not, it’s not, it’s not my fault that you’re an inconsiderate, s-selfish, stuck up b-bastard and now you have to live with the d-d-damn consequences. I’ve been living with the consequences of your actions all day long. I’ve got people asking me for b-blowjobs and handjobs like I’m some sort of whore, like, like, like I’ll just do that for anyone because they ask, and I’ve got people whispering slurs at me in the hallway, I found a st-sticky note with a drawing of a penis on my back at least six times today. And you come here to beg for-for-for my forgiveness because you can’t handle that people might actually see you for who you really are? S-stow it Wentz. I wish that this would ruin you, but we b-b-both know that everyone will have forg-gotten about your involvement in the next week. I, however, will have my picture in our s-senior yearbook with the caption “most likely to become a prostitute”. Please just, just g-go away and don’t t-talk to me ever again.”

He sighed angrily, fists clenched tightly. He hated how he always stuttered when he got upset, it made him sound like a child and just for once in his damn life he wanted to speak his mind without tripping over his words.

Pete stood there, looking sad and broken and like he was about to cry, and that made Patrick even more angry. Why couldn’t he just look offended, or yell back, or huff off and leave Patrick alone? And then his face changed and he did look angry.

“I swear to god Patrick just give me two damn minutes to talk and then I swear I will get off this porch and never talk to you again.” His jaw clenched and unclenched, and his voice was low and impatient. Patrick huffed.

“Whatever.” He folded his arms and glared at the boy in front of him. Pete sighed.

“Listen, everything I said in the diner that night was true. I meant it when I said I wanted to be your boyfriend. You’re smart and funny and everything I want to be but am not and I swear on my life that I wasn’t lying that night. Or right now.” He said.

“It’s funny, I’m not inclined to believe you.” Patrick shifted his weight from one foot to the other and started tapping his toe impatiently.

“I said no interruptions Stump.” Pete snapped. Then he sighed. “It’s just, Mark cornered me today before school, and he said some stuff--”

“Hah!” Patrick interjected. “I knew it. What, did he threaten to kick you off the team? To stop being your friend? To spread rumours about you? To give you the blackeye you so obviously deserve for being such an asshole?”

“No Patrick! _Goddamn_ just shut up for _two_ _seconds_. He threatened to hurt _you_ if he saw me talking to you again, okay?” Pete’s shoulder’s slumped. Patrick’s mouth dropped open. “And I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that I had to--or that I did embarrass you, and that I was lying about lying, and that I really really wish that you could actually be my boyfriend, but I care about you too much to do that to you.” He brought a hand up to rub wearily at his face. “Okay, it’s been two minutes. I’ll leave now.” He stepped off Patrick’s porch and walked towards his car, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

Patrick wasn’t sure why he said what he did next, he figured it must be demonic possession, but it was indeed his voice that called out, “Pete, wait.”

Pete turned around, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t let those asshole run your life. Don’t let them threaten you into doing things you don’t want to do.” Patrick said.

“I’d love to take your advice Patrick, but it’d kill me if they hurt you and it was my fault. I’ve seen Gabe put a kid in the hospital before, I can’t let them do that to you.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Patrick walked towards him.

“If they beat me up it’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. It’s their fault. I just--I’m sick of people scaring me into doing things. And the truth is, I really want to be your boyfriend too. Which maybe means that I need to go back to therapy, because you did a really shitty thing yesterday. But the thing is, it was pretty easy to hate you, but I was having a really hard time not liking you. I don’t care what they do to me, I just want to live my life the way I want to live it, not how other people want me to live it.”

Pete stared at him, shocked. Then he slowly nodded.

“I--I’d love it if you could forgive me and maybe, be my boyfriend again? You’re right. I still don’t want you to get hurt, but I’m not going to let Mark and Gabe and Bob and whoever make my choices for me. If you’re okay with taking the risk, then I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” He said. Patrick didn’t know why, but he believed him. He believed everything Pete was saying, and he knew he shouldn’t, he knew that he should tread with more caution, but it just felt...right. Still…

“You have to prove it to me though.” He said to Pete. Pete looked confused, but nodded his head vigorously. “You have to prove that you’re not just still stringing me along. I swear if you are, if this is some continuation of a prank that isn’t even funny, I _will_ end you. More importantly, Andy Hurley totally has the hots for my best friend, and he’ll do anything for Joe-Froh, so keep that in mind too.” Pete’s face paled a little bit, but he nodded again.

“Anything. I’ll do anything to prove it to you Patrick.” He looked so earnest. Patrick cocked his head, trying to think of a suitable task.

“Flowers.” He finally said out loud. “I want you outside my house every morning at 7:30 sharp with flowers and chocolate and for you to give me a ride to school. For two weeks.” Pete looked confused, but nodded once more. “And I want you to tell everyone at school that you were embarrassed about coming out and that’s why you lied that day in math class and I want you hold my hand and walk me to class and just not be ashamed to be my boyfriend.” Pete smiled a little bit.

“I was thinking you’d ask me to fly to Japan and get you some special kind of candy or something.” He laughed a little bit. “I mean, I totally would,” he added hastily, “but I think this is a little more manageable.” Patrick allowed himself to smile a little bit in return.

“Okay so I’m actually freezing and I think I’m finally going to take my chance to get into my house without a certain someone blocking the doorway. See you at 7:30 tomorrow. And I’m not lying about Andy Hurley, by the way.”

“I know you’re not.” Pete nodded gravely. “Do I at least get a goodbye kiss? Now that we’ve made up?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Patrick fixed him with a cold stare.

“No.” He said simply. “You have to earn that back too.” He turned to go back into his house.

“Fair enough.” Pete said. “See you in the morning! Do you have any chocolate preferences?”

Patrick rolled his eyes, even though Pete couldn’t see him, and opened his door. He could feel that goddamn smile radiating from Pete again. He closed his door behind him without answering.

“Hope you like almonds!” He heard Pete yell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry that everything i write is so predictable and cliche
> 
> if u feel so inclined, pls leave ur local piece of trash some comments?
> 
> (thank u all for reading ily)


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